


Perfection

by TiaLewise



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 15:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19948150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaLewise/pseuds/TiaLewise
Summary: Old habits die hard, 'specially with your favourite angel.





	Perfection

It wasn't hibernation, per se. Crowley just loved to sleep. Having slept away most of the 19th century, he could say he'd become rather adept at the practice.

Except now had come the first days of the rest of their lives, and tumbling into bed for weeks, months, years, etc...just seemed so irresponsible. Or at the very least, inconsiderate of a certain angel's feelings on the matter. 

So he had taken, on drowsier occasions, to slipping back into his old, serpentine form, and curling up somewhere on Aziraphale's person-shaped person. Around Aziraphale's neck, with head tucked into the angel's underarm space, was Crowley's personal favourite. It was warm, secure, smelled like his favourite creature in the world, and the back-and-forth motion as Aziraphale bustled about his bookshop never failed to lull Crowley into a state of soporific bliss. 

There he could doze for hours, undisturbed, only vaguely yet delightedly aware of Aziraphale's soft, plump fingers stroking his scales from time to time. It was Heaven come again, one he would willingly be Raptured to without a moment's notice.

The smattering of customers had taken notice of the shiny thing adorning the bookshop's owner. Aziraphale had worn the same faded cream get-up for night on two hundred years; of course someone was going to ask about Mr Fell's "fancy new tie." Aziraphale had gone along with the silver-plattered ruse for a time, until one particularly irritating customer, who seemed intent on purchasing several old tomes, pointed out that his tie was moving. At that, Crowley had withdrawn his head to stare straight at the boy, tongue flickering languidly, and he'd bolted from the shop, the desired books having remained behind. 

It had been a good one, that. Aziraphale told him off for it later that night, though he did see the positive side to it the next day, having realised he'd kept his precious books. From then on, whenever Crowley sensed Aziraphale starting to become a little tense, he'd stick his head out, ready to scare the shit out of the unsuspecting idiot who deserved it. 

But the bookshop had been closed for several days now. Not even the aftermath of the Apocalypse That Was Not could convert Aziraphale to a mindset of normal opening hours. Currently he sat at his desk, a cup of cocoa at the ready and glasses perched on his nose; he had been reading, as he was wont to do most nights, but a certain serpent had been distracting him.

"You truly are a delight, my dear." Aziraphale rubbed Crowley's head, just above and between his eyes, with his thumb, smiling in that ever-present angelic way. Crowley practically wriggled with delight, tail draped over his angel's shoulders and head resting on his corduroy-clad chest. "So gentle, so sweet...I do so love to have you near me like this." 

Speaking was difficult with a snake's tongue and jaw, so Crowley didn't ever bother to try. He did stretch up a little, however, to lightly butt his nose under Aziraphale's chin, his best attempt at a kiss. Aziraphale chuckled and ran a hand down the length of Crowley's shimmering, black scales. "Are you still tired? Am I keeping you up? You can go back to sleep, darling, if you wish."

Crowley flicked his tongue against his angel's full lips, shaking his head slowly afterwards as he wound his tail in to meet the rest of his body. No, he was decidedly awake now. Time to slip back into something a little more…well, not  _ comfortable, _ but simply more familiar these days. 

Aziraphale let out only the briefest of grunts as Crowley's weight shifted, became heavier, shifting back into a human shape. A few moments later the demon was straddling Aziraphale's lap.

"Hey, angel."

"Hello, Crowley." Aziraphale patted Crowley's bottom appreciatively.

"How many days was it?"

Aziraphale pursed his lips a moment as he thought. "I believe...only around sixteen this time. Quite short for you, my love."

Crowley shrugged. "Summer. S'hotter. Don't need to warm up as much." He leaned in, arms winding lazily around Aziraphale's shoulders. "You're plenty warm for me."

"I aim to please," Aziraphale smiled. Their lips met for a kiss, soft and gentle. The angel tasted of cocoa and sugar, a decadent treat even this demon, who rarely ate, would gladly sup from at any given opportunity. 

Aziraphale's hands were in Crowley's hair by the time they pulled back, fingers stroking and twirling in reverent gestures to match the look of pure adoration in his eyes. "Oh, my darling," he whispered. "My darling Crowley. I am so glad you are here."

"Always, angel. Always." 

Neither slept that night, and Aziraphale's hands never stopped touching. As always, it was perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

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